Deaf Audience
by brassybats
Summary: In a frozen New York winter day, a slow business day is the last thing a Great Depression newsie needs. However, Sal's aid finally comes in the form of a strange young man from another time. Red Car Newsboys/Dapper Dans of Disneyland


"Extra! Extra!"

Sal had been yelling this for the past four hours, and though her voice usually lasted for a while, it was growing strained. The wind bit through her, or rather, her brother's coat. It must have been at most nine degrees Fahrenheit. She rubbed her gloved hands together and breathed on them, and she pulled her cap lower.

"Ey, kid." A man drew near, his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his coat. "Is there anything 'bout Wall Street in there?" he inquired in a noticeable Brooklyn accent.

Sal shook her head. "Sorry, not today."

The man gave a huff of a sigh and briskly walked away. Sal cast a disappointed glance at her bag, in which there sat more newspapers than money. At this rate, she wouldn't even have any money for herself. Drawing in a deep breath, she began to yell again.

"Extra! Extra!" she called out to a deaf world.

People nearby covered their ears or walked more quickly. Those further away simply pretended not to hear. Everyone had somewhere to be, and no one had change to spare. A gust of wind blew at her side, and it nearly unwound her scarf before she caught it and wrapped it back around her neck. Even the weather refused to care at this point so far into the day.

She hardly looked down to see where she was walking, so she was taken by surprise when her foot slipped on a patch of ice. She fell backwards, landing on her back upon the hard, frozen sidewalk. Wincing, she dragged herself to her knees. To her dismay, the contents of her bag lay scattered on the ground around her. She quickly moved to pick up the coins and papers. She struggled to lift the coins with the dull tips of her wool-clad fingers. Her eyes searched for objects against the gray surface.

A shadow fell over her. A hand reached in and began to pick up coins. Sal paused and lifted her eyes, and she met the brown eyes of the man before her. The man nodded a greeting before returning to the task. Finally, he piled the change into his right hand and stood.

"Here you go," he said, dropping the coins into Sal's bag. He extended a hand, and, once she took it, he pulled her to her feet. Sal looked him up down, taking in this unique presence. The man wore bright purple trousers and a striped white and purple vest. He had a matching suit jacket, and a bowtie of the same purple peeked into visibility. On one side of this jacket, there was a golden pin, on which the name "Drew" was engraved in black letters. A straw boater sat atop his head of dark.

"So, newsgirl?'

Sal's head snapped back up so that she once again looked at his face. "Yeah?"

"That's a lot of papers you've got there."

Sal shrugged and fixed her scarf, which had become loose in the fall. "It's a slow business day."

"Ah." The man tucked his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. "You've been singing to a deaf audience?"

Sal gave a little laugh for the truth of the question. The man shared in this, and he smiled sympathetically.

"I know the feeling." He nodded to the bag. "Can I see one of these?"

"Sure." She rummaged in the bag for the driest newspaper and presented it to the man. He took it, and after a moment of reading, he gave a bright grin, one that seemed to warm the frigid air.

"Good news?" inquired Sal.

The young man turned the paper around for Sal to see. On the front was a man with a fatherly smirk and a groomed mustache.

"It's always nice to see good ol' Water Disney's success in the headlines," he remarked. "The man's going to be a great success."

"You think so?"

"Oh, I know it." As he said this, he reached into his jacket. He removed a few neatly folded bills and, holding it out, said, "I'll buy every one you've got."

Sal's jaw dropped. She scrambled for her voice, and only came up with a gasp of "Really?"

"Of course. The boys at home would love to read them."

As if by magic, he pulled a large canvas bag from inside his jacket, and he opened it wide. Sal hastily loaded the bag until it was full to the brim. The lack of a burden on her shoulder was a great relief, and she allowed herself a sigh.

"Here." The man placed the money in her hand, and then rocked back on his heels as she counted the bills.

The newsgirl raised a brow as soon as she passed the third one-dollar bill. "You over pir me, sir," she told the gentleman, beginning to separate the excess from the stack.

"Keep the change."

"You really don't-"she started, holding out the money.

The young man leaned in and clasped her hand in his hands. "Keep it. I insist."

Straightening, he tipped his hat to her, and he gave another warm smile. Sal smiled back.

"Thank you."

Her gaze wandered down to the money in her hands. On top of the green bills, there lay a small card. Sal's head tilted with curiosity as she raised the object to her. The card was crisp and colourful, printed in a way that she had never seen before. Set between two music notes, the words read, "The Dapper Dans of Disneyland."

"Disneyland?" Sal spoke aloud.

She looked back up, but the man was gone. Only a pair of bright purple footprints rested in his place. Sal stood there, puzzled. The wind once again played with the end of her scarf. The girl carefully tucked the money into her bag. She turned and took off down the sidewalk, running with the intent to find Johnny and tell him of the generous, dapper man.


End file.
